Her Quilt
by createjc
Summary: "She threaded the needle, just like mother always told her to."


Her Quilt Chapter One

She threaded the needle, just like mother always told her to. Twitch Stitch grinned ear to ear, working strenuously on a bright red cloak, for her mother. Mothers' day was coming, and she found no better time to implore her talents. She had worked so very long, and...and she was finally almost done! She sat, the curtains drawn across the window, and continuously threaded and string the cloth. Outside, the sun shone brightly across Canterlot, but Twitch had no time for such a delicacy of daylight. As such, her fur was out of place, rough, and paling. The brown mare had a...distaste for physical strenuous activity. Twitch was born with Guillain-Barré Syndrome, which made her limbs extraordinarily weak. Her...lack of Physical Activity built upon this, causing her bone marrow to be weaker than a normal Earth Pony, and her muscles incredibly thin. However, her dexterity with her hoofs was splendid.

A brilliant blue flooded her mind.

Twitch smiled, gripping and picking a glass of water up, with her hoofs...yes, just one of the many abilities of her extraordinary hoof work. Unlike most of her...lesser species equivalents, she does not use her mouth to carry and hold objects, she has trained and assisted her hoofs to pick and grab an object.

Quite splendid, really.

She swallowed, cooling herself. Sewing was terribly tense work, and with that added upon the heat of her room. Canterlot was incredibly warm in the summer...unpleasant. Twitch focused herself back to the tense work, completely the last few threads to the quilt. Her brilliant mind, suddenly, hit a brainwave.

Her mothers' mane was such a deep purple...and it would go brilliant with the red. Standing up, she swooped the quilt into a nice fold, slipping in her back carrier. With a pleasant smile, Twitch skipped her way to the front door.

"Mom!" She called. "I'm going out for a bit!"

"Really?" Her mother sounded honestly shocked...no surprise. "Well...alright, but please be careful, and come back before dinner!" Twitch was already out the door, squinting in the sunlight. Why must it always be so bright here? With a sigh, she began her stroll down to the shop. Shades of purple flooded her mind, which quickly spread to the brilliant glint of her latest work. Such...brilliant colors, the bright reds, the purples… she skipped a bit, her mood skyrocketing. There was so much...joy to see in the clashing of colors, materials...threading together a work of art...Twitch especially loved working with furs and cloth. There's just...been so many materials she's been aching to try. So many that...she can't obtain. Griffin Feathers, Ursa Major Pelts...the exotic materials made her excited. Her mind wandered, imagining the patterns, the quilts she could stitch. She imagined the brilliant blues of Ursa Majors, how Griffin Feathers simply just...shone, even in near darkness….

Unfortunately, this brought her mind away from watching where she was going, as she bumped straight into a ever so slightly older mare, with a similar brown fur, but a deep red mane. Velvet Floss. Otherwise known as, Twitch Stitch's older sister.

"Hey, watch where you're tr-"

Her eyes fell on the collapsed figure, slowly picking her weak frame up.

"Ohh, hey, if it isn't little Twitchy. I would have expected you to burn up, eh?" Her two...well, Twitch will have to be honest here, bitches walked up next to her. They both egged her on. To put things simply, Twitch and Floss did not meet on a similar level.

"I'm deeply sorry, sister, but I had my thoughts on my future career. Sewing, something just a tad more important than dentistry." Floss had always loved dentistry, and would go into a long winded conversation, whenever brought up. An insult to that medical field would hit deep.

So does Floss' hoof.

Twitch hit the ground hard, feeling her arm bend in the wrong direction. She let out a soft squeal, pain splintering throughout her left hoof. Her back went spinning off her back, landing next to her.

The sky was cloudy.

Standing tall, her sister grinned in victory, grabbing the finely stitched blanket, wrinkling and unfolding Twtich's craftsmanship.

"Wow, nice quilt, Seamstress. How long did you spend on it?"

"Leave it alone...p-please.." She whispered, her hoof throbbing in pain. Pushing up, Twitch plopped into a sitting position. Haphazardly, she swung her hoof at Floss.

It was the equivalent of a soft breeze rubbing against a sewing machine.

Floss kicked at the figure next to her, throwing Twitch to the ground yet again. She fell on her pack. Something sharp cut her back.

"Naw, I think I'll keep it, sis. It'll make a great present to Mom, after all!" She looked back to her lap dogs, who erupted in laughter. Floss swung the glistening symbol of hell around her back, wearing the crown of thorns like the corrupt queen she was.

The clouds clotted together, and rain began to fall

"Floss, it's starting to rain!"

"We gotta go, dude!"

Floss glared up, rain poking her eye.

"...Yeah, yeah it is...damn, Flora said it was supposed to downpour, but not 'till seven! It's...oh forget it, let's head to-"

That's all Twitch heard. She blacked out, lying on the ground, hardly able to inhale a breath.

Her quilt began to unravel.

The slowing pitter patter of water startled Twitch from her sleep. Her ribs throbbed, her hoof was stiff. She didn't care, though. She saw a glint of red. The quilt. Floss must of dropped it... She dragged her body to the final resting place of her quilt, gently resting her hoof on the soggy, ruined cloth. It was still intact...but the fine bindings were soaked, the color fading. She had worked weeks on this...and just like that, it's gone. She felt her already wet face begin to cry, her body shaking. The rain had stopped, but she hadn't noticed. Picking her limp body up, she left her ruined work where it laid, and staggered home.

It was late. Eight at night, to be exact. Twitch creaked the door open, only to be greeted by a shaking mother, being consoled by her sister.

" Mom, she's probably just lost herself in the thread shop again. You know how she is." Twitch's mom nodded, stuttering out.

"I-it's just...she's such a fragile mare...what if something happened? She could be hurt! She could...oh my Celestia! Twitch!" She rushed to her broken daughter's side, gently holding her twisted hoof, but more focused on the blood oozing from the open wound, etched upon the back torso. Stitch whimpered.

"I am fine, m-mother...really..." Of coarse her mother would not believe such an obvious display of a lie. Over the shoulder of her dear mother, Velvet Floss caught Twitches' eyes, with a smirk. She had noticed the lack of contents in her pack, so obviously, the quilt had failed to return. Her work would remain unnoticed, the great masterpiece if her genius, the glittering delight of what she had worked so hard to accomplish would never, never be realized.

And it was her fault.

"Stitch, honey, you have a sewing needle stuck in your back!" Did she...? Oh...oh look at that...The pain was dulled at this point...with a rub, she felt the thin gash across her back, and slight metallic bump where the needle was throbbing.

"Oh...I do, don't I?" She muttered. "I'm...I'm fine mother..."

Twitch passed out again.

She awoke with a start in bed, her back heavily bandaged. The blood continued to ooze, she could tell. Her back was moist, her arm throbbed. Her mother was there...she was talking. Something about her hoof getting sprained. She just nodded, Twitch couldn't hear. Her mind was wandering, focusing on things like her dear quilt...gone...destroyed...rags...

"...just...call down to me if it begins to hurt more, alright?"

"Okay..." She sounded so far away..so hurt. Her mom left, uncertain. Twitch laid in peace, but she thought with conflict. The dark blobs of her took began to morph and shutter, forming uncertain shapes...patterns, cloths, quilts of darkness. It was...poetic, really. A very peculiar smile was painted upon her face, her eyes fluttering close.

Her dreams were of needles, and threads, and cloth. Gently, she fell her mind leave the events of the day, and drift off to designs for black cloaks and robes and many other wondrous designs. Her slumber was almost complete, begging sleep to come. She would dream of her dreams, her wants and needs, her designs, getting the light they deserve.

Instead, Her door opened. Velvet Floss strolled in, grinning victoriously. Twitch turned her head away, trying to drift back to her cloth covered dream world.

"Hey, Sis, you awake?" She punched the lump underneath the covers. Twitch tried to stay quiet. Prods and bumps continued to be thrust upon her, making both her bottom legs go sore. Eventually, she stuttered through her pain.

"What...do you want?" Floss leaped into the bed, sending Twitch fluttering, and branching back into the bed. She yelled, only slightly.

"Where's that quilt thing? I still need a gift for Mom, y'know." Twitch shuddered, remembering her efforts that now lie wasted.

"...the rain...it ruined it..." She whispered. Silence followed. Floss was holding back laughter.

"Seriously? Dude, you should be more careful with that kind of stuff."

"As if it isn't your fault!" Twitch screamed, leaping up, glaring at Velvet, who looked...amused. She raised an eyebrow, chuckling slightly.

"My fault, eh? Y'know, if I was in your position, I would have kept..." She put her hoof on Twitch's chest. "My mouth..." She pushed, hard, throwing Twitch back into the bed, knocking the wind out of her.

"Shut." Twitch fell silent. No screams. No shouts. No tears. Only pain. Mental, and physical pain. Her sister, triumphing over her much weaker and pathetic singling, sent one last punch, before leaping off the bed, and strolling back to whatever hell demons like her do. Then, and only then, did Twitch cry. She sobbed, bellowed,but all was silent. For she did not cry, but her soul did. She did not want to draw attention, so she cried inside. She let her insides display her I motion, while her outside showed anger...determination...her mind began to swarm with ideas fueled by pure anger. She'll show Floss. It was five days until Mother's Day.

That was more than enough time.

Her quilt continued to unravel.


End file.
